


This is the Way the World Ends

by too_many_tuesdays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Dean, Cold Oak, Episode: s02e22 All Hell Breaks Loose, Hurt Sam Winchester, poem based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 16:07:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/too_many_tuesdays/pseuds/too_many_tuesdays
Summary: Sam is Dean's worldThis is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I'm new at this and I just had to get it out of my head :)

_Those who have crossed_  
_With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom_  
_Remember us—if at all—not as lost_  
_Violent souls, but only_  
_As the hollow men_  
_The stuffed men._  
_-The Hollow Men_  
_…_

* * *

  
Dean remembers when Sam, so curious with bright eyes and a full smile, first brought the poem home from the sixth grade. The eager eleven year old could not stop talking about it to his older brother, his class was learning about poetry and it made him feel like a big boy. And of course Dean was a proud older brother, listening to Sammy spout off facts and analysis with eager, wide eyes. But once again, he was an older brother, so he played it off by being sarcastic and ruffling his little brother’s hair. Not like Sammy cared though, he could read Dean like a book so he continued to recite the poem “...this is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.” Here Dean paused and looked up because God, was this a morbid poem for a sixth grader, but also, he couldn’t help thinking _what a poor son of a bitch_. Dean was a Winchester and he’d be damned if he went out with whimper or anything less than a well-deserved bang, guns blazing, the Winchester way.

As Dean grew up nothing changed. He knew that when his time came, and with the hunter’s life it’d be sooner rather than later, he’d go out with a bang and a gun in his hand. He wouldn’t be at any one’s mercy and it definitely wouldn’t be at the hands of a sickness that slowly sucked out his life and dignity, leaving him to die a slow, pitiful death. There would be no begging for his life and he would preferably like to be by his brother’s side, keeping him safe. This was not to make Sam suffer by watching him die, he just wanted a proper goodbye to the only and most important person in his life.

Then Sam was taken to Cold Oak. But Dean wouldn’t give up until he found his brother, the only one who mattered. He searched, losing sleep and missing meals for the one person who had never given up on him. Of course, soon enough, Dean was running to Sam, calling his name, thanking God he was safe because he didn’t know what he would’ve done if he wasn’t. And then Dean’s world ended. Not with a bang, because knives don’t have a sound of their own. But a whimper as he held Sam in his arms, head lolling and blood making a steady line from the corner of his mouth to the tip of his chin, one name on his lips, “Dean.” And it breaks him because this was the same boy with the eager eyes who shared poems with him, now his eyes are just having trouble staying open. The same boy who screamed with glee as he lept through fireworks, telling Dean he was the best, now all he can say is “Dean” because that’s the only word he remembers. And all Dean can do is hold him, whispering reassurances and hoping he’ll wake up to his brother sleeping in the bed next to him instead of gasping for breaths in his helpless arms. Soon, when his lungs can no longer push out the air to form words, he whimpers. And then he doesn’t.  
Dean begs. To anything or anyone listening he begs for the bright eyed, shaggy haired, geeky idiot of a brother back. And when he gets no reply, he begs for them to take whatever is left of him away. Because he realizes they already took his life. He realizes he’s the poor son of a bitch he pitied from Sammy’s poem. Because his world ended in a whimper, Sam’s whimper. Sam is his world. And now he’s gone.


End file.
